


Embers

by bilingle



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bandaging, Confessions, Dom/sub, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Gentle Kissing, Gentle Sex, Getting to Know Each Other, Mild Gore, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Female Character, Pet Names, Post-Fall of Overwatch, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Smut, Team Talon (Overwatch)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-07 21:26:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13443726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bilingle/pseuds/bilingle
Summary: This scenario never occurred to you that this would happen. That you would inevitably fall for him. Or that it would all work out.





	1. Beguile

**Author's Note:**

> You know what time it is.   
> So I have come to the conclusion of where I can't find much Fanfic of Jesse anymore and so uh, we are here.   
> I hope ya'll enjoy it ;)

Embers waft to the highlands south, leaving behind the remains of the ghost town. The sky cast an ashen color, clouds a dark slate, gathering the remnants. The reticence of freshly fallen snow damped any imperfect sound resonating from the fires. The last light seeped from small crevices of the blanket covered sky, burning away at the horizon. The town behind me glowed in the same light as the sunset, the shadows of tall blue grass reflected down to the ground. The silent wind pushed itself across the land, carrying the scent of burnt cedar and thatch, There, nothing remained but the ashes of family homes. Hundreds of memories burned away in a matter of minutes. The thick blades of bluegrass blocked my view of the town, my vision fuzzy. The shotgun shells linger in my side, the muscles ripped apart where they lay. Walking was useless, the pain was only tolerable sitting down. The only company that stayed with me was the silent snowfall. Yet they lead no conversation, just quiet, shy whispers. My hand grips my side, fingers stained as blood drips through my fingertips. The most recent part of the mission was unsuccessful.  
Talon supposedly had exclusive equipment here, the plan was to breakdown the survices, maybe take out an agent or two. To get in and out as quickly as possible, turned out they had other plans. The whole base was rigged with electromagnetic pulses, making it near impossible to get what we wanted. They would pull tissue apart if someone had gotten to close. What was managed to get into our hands was destroyed, turned into metal and scraps.   
It had all happened so quickly, it was a blur.   
The frantic sound of boot spurs fills the distance, the josling sound of grunting came along with it. Those steps seemed closer as the minutes passed, hearing became faded, as you came in and out of consciousness. Crunching snow beneath footfalls, a handgun jolts against its holster.   
“Hold on Doll, we’ll get ya t’ safety,”   
His posture seemed distressed, as he knelt down into the snow, to pick you up. With his hands under your knees, and upper back, lifted you with a slight, pained grunt. With your eyesight fazed, you could still make out familiar features and scents. Sharp jawline, unruly facial hair, the scent of fancy cuban cigars and worn leather, and that damn cowboy hat. The snow underneath his heavy footsteps covered now in ash, as the last remains of fire are burnt out. The mountain was silent, nothing else but the two of you. It was bitter, the snowflakes large and brief. Trying to stay awake was a controversy, from the blood loss, and the frigid conditions, you were sure you couldn’t take much more.   
“Now ya must stay’ awake, {Y/N}. Commander would have my ass if ya passed out.”  
Focusing your attention now towards his face, bleary eyed.  
“I...is that a command or a...request?   
His body shakes with a chuckle, his eyes beam down towards yours. They seemed weary, the fatigue prominently showed through those dark brown eyes. A few miles down as he advanced towards the drop ship, everything laid still, not a sound came from the engines. Nothing was bustling, no one in sight. As we approached, the confusion became more immanent. The drawbridge influenced door lay open. You look up towards his face, the expression holds just as much confusion, maybe more.   
“What in the hell.”   
Your weight was shifted towards his chest plate, as he stepped on the ramp like structure, entering into the cavern-like space of the ship. Even with your vision impaired, something was awry.  
“It’s...empty.”  
“That’s super observant, darlin’, but I can’t blame ya, now hush.”  
He sets you down on the padded bench, careful with his movements. He didn’t want to enforce any more pain than what you were experiencing. Stepping back, his voice echoed.  
“Athena, status report.”  
“Drop ship #12 has been down since 5:30 p.m. An emergency jet will scan this area in approximately 18 hours. I’d suggest you’d rest. I will activate the heating system.”  
“Thanks Athena, understood.”  
Warmth came quickly, as it seeped into your bones, creating a numb sensation. Visible, you became more relaxed, eyes becoming heavier. The last thing you can make out before you fall asleep is the voice of Athena addressing.  
“Agent McCree, who might this be?”


	2. Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse fixes you up.

“Her names {Y/N}. That’s all I really know.”  
He tilted his hat towards his face more, his eyes drift towards to where you rested. Rapidly, your breathing began to quicken, sweat beading against your forehead. A fever was breaking out. The spurs against his boots shake as he walks over. Getting down on his haunches, the back of his hand ghosts over your forehead, heat emits off it, and he sighs.  
“God damnit, {Y/N}.”  
Getting back up, he turns away to walk towards the medical box, getting bandages and other supplies. He takes his movements quickly, setting everything down in his arms on the table beside you. His hands go to your arms, josling you awake.   
{Y/N}, ya need to wake up, Doll. Need to get ya healed up.”  
Lifting your head up, you squint your eyes down to him, making eye contact. Making the slight effort just to look up was agony. Everything hurt. Any type of exertion would be fatal, with blood loss and fever, everything was indistinct, but his eyes. Those honey-brown eyes, filled with concern. You nod slightly, just enough movement for an agreement. His hands go towards the bottom of your uniform, lifting it just enough to see the puncture wound in your side. It was a lot worse that he thought it was. Veins and bruises have protruded from the bullet point, where blood has clotted. Looking back into your eyes, his face tense. From the table, he grabs numbing cream, and places it near the point. As that numbs, his hands scramble for the medical tweezers, and places it against the puncture, gripping the sides of the bullet inside. Your shoulders tense, teeth clenching together in torment. In one split second, the bullet came free, blood emitting from the lasteration, dripping down onto the seat. The biotic field pulsing, bruises and veins vanish. He next grabs the cotton bandages, wrapping around your navel, still careful with his movements.   
Satisfied with his work, he stands, materials in hand, and place them back into the box. With the biotic field still running, your fever has gone down, your skin still warm to the touch. Your gaze follows him, down his back to his boots. You wrap your arms around yourself, the feeling of the tight bandages around your waist. The care that was presented to you when his hands rested on your sides to heal you up, brought a flush to your face. Yes, Jesse was often seen as a flirtatious, charming, carefree man, hanging around the training room, smoking a cigar. But, the cowboy was more than that. He was cocky, but also respectful and kind-hearted. It was just something about him, you were drawn in the moment he first spoke to you. That damn southern-drawl, it made the knees go weak when spoke. But that was kept unknown, deep inside of your heart.   
Jesse comes back to where you sat, and settled on the other side of the table, sitting down rather abruptly. The sudden movement made you glance up. He sighs, tucking his hat against his nose, feet up on the table. His posture was tense, he seemed uneasy.   
“Jesse?”   
“Yes, Doll?”  
“Are you okay?”  
“Just dandy {Y/N}, now don’t run your pretty head about me and rest. We don’t know when they'll get here. ”  
Sitting back into the seat, your gaze set on his clavicle, watching his shoulders go up and down from his breathing. Still unsure, you stand anyway, the sting present, but bearable. Walking slowly to his side, you faintly touch his knee to get his attention. Shifting, his eyes cast up towards yours, full of abashment.  
“Your a really bad liar, Jesse.”  
He hums at this, the statement bubbling the truth.   
“It’s the phantom pain, my arm has been actin’ up quiet a bit. Nothin’ to serious. Now, Doll, sit down before I make you sit down. It’s been a long day for the both of us.”   
Putting your head down, you nod, and sit down again on the plush of the seat. The ship remained silent. The feeling of being in his company was enjoyable, but the feeling of dread promptly hit. What if they never came?   
Motions upon your nervousness alerted Jesse, and made him look at you. Noticing the little things, your sleeves up against the palms of your hands, the faint signs of worry. With this, he sighs, and stands. Grabbing a blanket from storage, he now comes to the side where you sat, and sits next to you, wrapping the blanket around his and your shoulders. His hand settles next to your lower hip, wrapping you in himself, as a silent way of reasuresment. The small signs of embarrassment show on your face, you lean against him in a thank you.  
“Don’t worry {Y/N}, they’ll be here. Don’t worry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys like it!

**Author's Note:**

> So be prepared :) your in for a wild ride.


End file.
